"I thank not. We have not moved in this blindly. Steinbock we know to
have forged the name of the minister of finance. We hold this sword
above his head. And if he should speak or boast of it, your word would
hold greater weight than his. Do you understand now?"
"Yes, I understand. But I believe that I am genuinely sorry to have
blundered into this castle to-night."
"Oh, if you lack courage!"--carelessly.
I laughed. "I am not afraid of twenty Steinbocks."
Her laughter echoed mine. "Come, Mr.--by the way, I believe I do not
know your name."
"Warrington--Arthur Warrington."
"That is a very good English name, and a gentleman possessing it will
never leave two women in a predicament like this. You will understand
that we dare not trust any one at court. Relative to her Highness, the
duke succeeds in bribing all."
"But a rascal like Steinbock!"
"I know,"--a bit wearily.
"It is pardonable to say that I believe her Highness has been very
foolish."
The girl made a gesture which conceded this fact. "It is too late to
retreat, as I have told you. Steinbock is already on the way. We must
trust him. But you?"
"After all, what does a consulate amount to?"
This seemed to be answer enough. She extended her hand in a royal
fashion. I took it in one of mine, bent and kissed it respectfully.
Apparently she had expected the old-fashioned handshake familiar to our
common race, for I observed that she started as my lips came into
contact with the back of her hand. As for me, when my lips touched the
satin flesh I knew that it was all over.
"Your Highness!" she called.
The princess returned. She looked at me with a mixture of fierceness
and defiance, humility and supplication. I had always supposed her to
be a sort of hobbledehoy; instead, she was one of those rare creatures
who possess all the varying moods of the sex. I could readily imagine
all the young fellows falling violently in love with her; all the young
fellows save one. I glanced furtively at the Honorable Betty.
"He knows all?" asked her Highness, her chin tilted aggressively.
"Everything."
"What must you think of me?" There was that in her Highness' tone
which dared me to express any opinion that was not totally
complimentary.
"I am not sufficiently well-born to pass an opinion upon your Highness'
actions," I replied, with excusable irony.
"Excellent!" she exclaimed. "I have grown weary of sycophants. You
are not afraid of me at all."
"Not in the slightest degree," I declared.
"You will not regret what you are about to do. I can make it very
pleasant for you in Barscheit--or very unpleasant." But this
threatening supplement was made harmless by the accompanying smile.